


Ciri, The Witcheress Wench

by Hello_There_Everyone



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Anal Sex, Bribery, Brothels, Creampie, Cuckolding, Cunnilingus, Debauchery, Deepthroating, Dildos, Drunk Sex, Dwarf Sex, Elf Sex, F/F, F/M, Foot Fetish, Foot Massage, Foursome - F/F/F/M, Gangbang, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Impregnation, Lesbian Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Older Man/Younger Woman, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Some Plot, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-10-04 17:46:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17309060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_There_Everyone/pseuds/Hello_There_Everyone
Summary: Ciri faces a long and difficult journey as she flees the Wild Hunt. To make matters slightly easier, she decides to use her beautiful body to her advantage. Ongoing series of smutty, loosely connected one-shot fics.





	1. The Tavern in the Swamp

**Author's Note:**

> This is a loosely connected set one-shot fics. My goal is to string together a web of Ciri's encounters as she progresses through the story events of The Witcher 3. However, I'm open to requests as well! I hope you all enjoy, and please leave feedback if you do. This is my first fic so I'd like to see areas in which I could improve or cater to the audience more effectively.

 

The Tavern in the Swamp

 

Ciri trudged along the muddy path, feeling drained and uneasy. Her escape from the Crones had come only a few hours past, and the adrenaline rush which once sustained her had long worn off. Now, she was only hungry and tired.

“Curse this bloody swamp,” she muttered under her breath, feeling as much anger at Velen as she did at the Crones. The marshy lands seemed to stretch on for ages. After so much time on the road, the burned crops, damp soil, and hanging corpses all blurred together. However, as she cleared a fork in the road, a distant village came into view.

“Perfect,” she said, with the first genuine smile she’d cracked in what felt like eons. She finally had a chance to get herself back on track.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

“Welcome to Lindenvale miss!”, said a dirty child as Ciri strode past the gate. It was a rather unremarkable village by Velen’s standards. The thatched roofs, muddy paths, and extreme poverty were in line with every other place in the swamp. Where Lindenvale stood out, however, was its large tavern. Most of them had shuttered during the war due to lack of travelers, but this one still stood, almost defiantly. Ciri gazed at it for a moment, then walked in.

 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

The smell of booze and unwashed men hit her nose as soon as she entered. Normally it might’ve made her gag, but this time it smelled different. It was the stench of opportunity. See, Ciri had many skills. Geralt, for instance, showed her how to ride a horse, and Triss, among many other things, had taught her how to ride a cock.

“Ciri, you never know when you’ll need this,” Triss had whispered to her during those long nights at Kaer Morhen. “When push comes to shove, and you cannot use blade nor magic, you’ll always have the tools on your chest and between your legs. Men across all the known realms will desire you, and you should always be ready to use that to your advantage.”

Those wise words rang through her mind as she crossed the room. Many heads had already turned to face her. Ciri, even when covered in mud and blood, was just about the prettiest person any Velen man had seen. She walked confidently to the innkeep, a weathered man of sixty years, with the beard, glasses, and wrinkles to match.

“I’ll have a loaf of bread and a glass of clean water,” she said, flashing her most winning smile at him. The innkeep looked her over, with his eyes lingering for a split second on her perky breasts. He, like every other man in the tavern, was finding it hard not to stare.

“Aye, miss. That’ll be 25 crowns I reckon. And pay upfront, this ain’t a charity.”

“25 crowns for some bread and water?”, she asked incredulously. “Are you shaking me down? How will I be able to cover such prices?” She gave him a look of naïve worry and stuck her chest out just a bit more.

“Well, you clearly ain’t from round here.” he began, “I dunno if you noticed, but we ain’t got much food round these parts. Caravans don’t come through like they used to, and even when they try, they end up robbed. The armies ‘av been burnin’ up cropland too. If food was so cheap then people wouldn’t be starvin’ right outside this door.”

Ciri reacted to the news with a look of fake worry. Of course, she knew that the prices would be high before she came in. She just wanted this man to think he was getting his way with her. She began to sway her hips a bit and leaned across the counter to get close to his cheek.

“It’s been a long day for me.”, she said, almost nuzzling his ear at this point. “I just want a little food and drink, and a warm bed to spend the night in. If you’d like, it could be your bed….”

She let the words hang in the air, then pulled down the front of her blouse ever so slightly. For just a moment, he got a flash of her pale tits.  
The innkeep pulled away slightly, but then began perversely leering at her.

“Ay miss, you can have your bread an’ water. Consider it on the house. Meet me at my room in the back when ya finish, ye hear? If you break this deal, I’ll have my boys know you’re a thief.”

Ciri nodded and smiled at him, then began to dig into her food.

 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

Feeling much better now that her stomach was full, Ciri pushed her way through the crowd towards the back of the tavern. She felt a few hands grope her, but the men mostly stayed off. They seemed to know she had business with the owner. She reached the door and knocked twice. Muffled voices came from within the room.

“Alright wifey, I’m gonna need you to look after the tavern tonight,” she heard the innkeeper say. “Don’t ya dare interrupt me, ya hear?”

The door burst open, and a dumpy looking old woman stormed out. The wizened lady gave Ciri a look that could kill, but eventually decided against saying anything and walked by.

Ciri entered the small, dark room and was greeted by the sight of the naked old man. He was rather hairy and scrawny, and she could smell him from the doorway. Velen, after all, was not known for the cleanliness of its people. However, his cock was large enough, and it was at full mast despite his age.

“Hope my old bitch of a wife gave ye no trouble,” he said with a toothy grin. “Last time that arsehole sucked me off must’ve been on the wedding night. But now you’re here, so why dontcha come on over and fix that problem, princess?”

With a smile and a nod, she seductively walked towards him, stripping off clothes along the way. She then dropped to her knees, and slowly began to lick his penis. It tasted awful, with the saltiness and musk of having not been washed in ages. Ciri paid no mind to it and continued her task, as she didn’t want to insult him. First, she circled the head, before moving down and licking each vein. Then she moved down once more and began to service his ballsack, letting her tongue linger near his taint. Finally, she moved back up and downed the entire cock in one go, feeling it push into the back of her throat.

“Aw fuck, who taught ya to suck like this, princess?”, moaned the innkeeper. “She musta been absolutely filthy.” The corners of Ciri’s mouth turned up faintly as she thought of Triss, who was indeed one of the filthiest women alive. As she deepthroated him, the innkeeper began pushing her face deeper into his sweaty pelvic hairs. Seeing such a pretty young thing kneeling before him and covered in his ball-sweat was the most erotic thing he’d ever experienced.

He continued to fuck her throat for about fifteen minutes, but then abrupted pulled his cock from her windpipe. “Alright hon, that was brilliant, but we’re gonna spend the rest of this time on the main attraction. Head on over to the bed, princess.”

Ciri laughed, licked up some of the sweat on her lips, and pulled herself onto the bed. “My mouth was not good enough for you? I’ve been told by some that it’s the best attraction there is!”

“Aye, it was wonderful.”, he confirmed. “But my wife’s vagina is looser than even the most worn out Novigrad whore, so this is going to be special for me. It’s been too long since I’ve had a real woman.”

Without any further words, he pulled himself onto the bed and slid his cock into Ciri’s glistening hole.

“Holy Melitele, your quim is tight!”, he exclaimed. The Innkeep could not contain his glee as he began pounding into her. Ciri, for her part, was beginning to have quite a lovely time too. Triss had told her that even when using sex as a tool she ought to be positive and enjoy it, as all parties involved would come out ahead. Ciri agreed with that philosophy. So, even though a smelly old man was slamming his dick into her in the middle of a swamp, she felt rather pleased. He continued ramming her for over an hour, soaking the entire straw bed with sweat and her vaginal juice, showing incredible stamina for such an elderly person. He was intoxicated by the sight of such a gorgeous woman moaning beneath him.

“Alright princess, I need you to get on your hands and knees like a dog and stick that arse towards me.”, the Innkeep commanded later, finally feeling he’d had enough of her vagina. Ciri uncoupled their sweaty bodies, and then assumed the position he had asked for.

“When I finish with your bottom, you won’t be able to walk straight for the rest of your life!”, he exclaimed with the excitement one might expect of a small child. “And each time you take a step, you’ll remember The Innkeeper’s cock!” Without pause, he plunged deep into Ciri’s ass and began to plunder it without lubrication, all while rubbing her clit with his thumb.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“What the hell is that noise,” asked the blacksmith, who had abruptly woken from his slumber. At this point, the entire village could hear muffled sounds coming from the tavern. His wife turned to him as the moaning and thumping began to ring even more loudly from across the road.

“Sounds like someone’s having the time of their life at the inn.”, she said with a wry smile.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Ciri fell back onto the pillow, utterly spent. Little had she known that this old man’s pent up sexual frustration would translate into one of the longest, lewdest trysts of her life. She had figured that he’d last at most a few minutes inside her, but he had proven her wrong. The innkeeper was nearly spent as well, but he still had one final act to carry out. He slid his member back into Ciri’s snatch and slowly worked back and forth. Finally, he was ready, and he came as deeply in her pussy as he possibly could. Load after sticky load coursed into her. Ciri wasn’t worried as she knew techniques to avoid pregnancy, but she still gave him a bemused smile.

“Was that a priority of yours?”, she asked as his cock flopped out of her.

“Aye, and let it be known to all that the lowly Innkeeper of Lindenvale tamed one of the finest women in the world.”, he said proudly. “I had ye crowing like a rooster! I’ll be a legend in this village till the day I fuckin die. Let me tell ye something princess. Veleners may be getting fucked by the rest of the world, but tonight a Velen man planted his seed inside a beautiful gal from outside this shithole swamp. If that ain’t a win, then I dunno what is.” With that, he wrapped his hands around her breasts, and promptly fell asleep with his dick on her thigh.

Ciri couldn’t help but giggle at the old man’s grandiose statement, and at her great fortune. Her plan had come off without a hitch. She had food, shelter, and a very, very warm bed to spend the night in, all without having spent a single crown (not that she had any regardless). Even though she was technically pregnant and smelly as hell, she was safe, at least for this one night. Ciri wrapped her arms back around the old pervert, and with his semen deep inside her, fell asleep.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

The following day, Ciri headed out of town. The innkeeper had given her some extra crowns and food in the morning, and had persuaded one of his friends to let her use their tub and clean herself up. He had also assured her that any time she passed through town, he would fuck her better than any other man in the Northern Realms. As Ciri walked through the gate, she reflected on the events of the previous night with great bemusement. At Kaer Morhen she’d learned how to run, leap, and use a sword better than almost anyone else. Yet, those skills would not have gotten her the bread, water, or crowns that she needed from the villagers, unless she chose the path of a bandit. After all, if Geralt had been in the same situation, he would’ve spent the night outside in the mud with nary a copper to his name.

“I may be a Witcher, but I’m also a proud wench. I’ll make it back to safety.”, she said to herself, newly confident in her ability to make it out the swamp and back to Novigrad.


	2. The Baron's Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciri needs an audience with the Bloody Baron, but his soldiers won't let her into his compound. Ciri resorts to bribery.

The Baron’s Men

 

Ciri held Gretka’s hand as she led her through Crow’s Perch. Their escape from the King of Wolves had come only a few hours earlier, and both were desperate for refuge. The first hours of the evening had arrived, and frigid rain was pelting down on them. Gretka kept quiet but shivered more with each passing moment. They walked through the ramshackle huts, looking for a place to stay. However, every door was locked shut, and there was not a single tavern in sight.

_If I don’t find shelter for us soon, Gretka will get very sick. How can this shithole not have a tavern?_ Ciri eyed the path up the road, which seemed to lead to the high-level quarters of Crow’s Perch. _That’s got to be where this “Bloody Baron” lives. Perhaps I can cut a deal with him. If it buys us at least a night or two, that should be enough to make sure Gretka is alright._

With this new outline of a plan, Ciri and Gretka set off up the road.

 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

“Hello! My name is Ciri, and I’ve come to seek an audience with Phillip Strenger, or the Bloody Baron, whichever title he prefers. Could you please open this gate?”

Ciri gazed up at the men on the wooden palisade, awaiting a response. These “soldiers” were little more than armed peasants, but right now she was at their mercy. There were two of them, both slight of frame, and both looking down at her with a great deal of curiosity. After all, it wasn’t every day that such a striking woman walked up to their gate with a small child in tow.

“Well, we got orders to only open up for important stuff at night.”, said the man on the left. He spat on the floor, then continued. “If yer a Strenger, a soldier, a merchant, or a Black One, then ye can come in. But since yer clearly none, yer gonna have to wait for daytime.”

Ciri paused for a moment. She hadn’t expected the Bloody Baron to have visitor’s hours, of all things. She decided to change her strategy.

“This can’t be a well-paid job, right?” , said Ciri as she jingled her coin pouch towards them. “Let me through, and you’ll get half this bag”

“Wot exactly would half a bag mean, lass?”, inquired the soldier on the right. His scruffy face seemed like one which was stuck in a permanent scowl, but right now it was twisted into a look of interest.  

Ciri peered into the bag, and her face fell. She’d been burning through her money on the road at a much quicker pace than she previously thought.

“It would mean eight crowns.” , she said sheepishly.

The two men looked at each other, then burst into hysterical laughter.

“Oi, ye wanted us to anger the Baron for EIGHT BLOODY CROWNS? Ye must be havin a laugh!”, said the man on the left. “We aint makin much, but four crowns each aint worth shite if the Baron puts us on Drowner patrol after.”

Ciri blew a strand of hair out of her eye with a bit of frustration. She had wanted to avoid this particular solution since a child was present, but if she waited out here any longer Gretka would almost certainly get sick. She directed her gaze back towards the men.

“Lads, I can still make it worth your while. I’ve got a few _sword_ tricks that would really sweeten the deal. Especially for some handsome soldiers like yourselves.”

“She’s great with swords, I’ve seen her!” piped Gretka, completely oblivious to what was really being discussed.

The two men froze in place. Even with their complete lack of education, they could understand the subtext in her words. They both peered down at Ciri, taking a good look at her to determine if it was worth risking the wrath of the Baron. What they saw instantly made their cocks begin to stiffen.

The rain made had Ciri’s thin blouse stick to every single tight curve of her breasts and waist. Wet white hair framed her sharp cheeks, creating an image of almost ghostly beauty. Her emerald eyes shone at them from the dying light, watching carefully as they made their decision.

“Oswald cmon… we’ve gotta do this. Look at her!”, whispered the man on the right. “She’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen! If the Baron gets mad, we can just say we thought she came from Nilfgaard or sumthin, surely she aint from here!”

Oswald turned to his partner, brow furrowed for a few moments. Finally, he made a conclusion.

“Aye mate, we’re doing it.”

 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

Ciri set Gretka down on the floor of the right watchtower. The soldiers had told Ciri that they needed to fulfill the terms of their deal before heading further into the camp, which Ciri was okay with so long as she had a covered, dry area to leave Gretka in.

“I’ll be back in just a moment sweetie.”, she told Gretka, hoping to reassure her. Gretka nodded, already seeming in much better spirits now that the rain was not crashing down on her. Ciri headed back down the ladder and turned to speak to the waiting men.

“Okay gentlemen, which spot are we doing this in?”

“The left watchtower, of course.”, said Owen, the man whom had been keeping watch with Oswald.

“That watchtower is _right next to where I left the child_ ”, hissed Ciri. “ _She’s going to hear us going at it.”_

Oswald shrugged.

“I’dunno what to tell you. We can’t leave our post right now. It’s either the watchtower, or ya go back outside. I doubt the child will understand what we’re doing to you anyway.”

Ciri blushed, feeling a bit flustered. She didn’t mind whoring herself out to get her goals accomplished, but having Gretka hear her get fucked by peasant militiamen was not exactly what she had bargained for. However, it was too late now, and she headed up the ladder to the leftmost watchtower.

 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

Ciri lay naked with her back to the wooden floor of the tower. Her pale legs were split wide open, presenting her lovely quim to the two men in front of her. One of her hands lazily stroked her clit, while she used the other to finger herself. After all, if she were to take on two men she would need to be loose and well lubricated. However, for whatever reason, the men seemed almost reluctant to begin.

“Well boys, I’m all yours.”, Ciri purred at them. “Come and have your way with me.” _What is going on here? They look like they’ve seen a ghost.”_ Oswald was the first to respond to her words, and he unsteadily lowered himself over her.

 As soon as Oswald pushed his cock into her, his balls began contracting and he got red in the face. He had never, in his entire life, felt something so tight. When his penis was inside Ciri he could feel nothing but the embrace of her tight wet walls, think of nothing but the hot friction, smell nothing but the aroma of her dripping sex. She was intoxicating. She was too much. Almost as soon as it began, it ended. Oswald let out a whimper as he blew his load into her. He’d lasted only 12 seconds.

Ciri smirked to herself as she felt him plaster her womb with sperm.

_Ah, so that’s what it was. Performance anxiety. At least I won’t be making any noise for Gretka to hear, there’s no way in hell that these two bozos can get a moan out of me._

Owen had turned red upon seeing the way that his friend had embarrassed himself. He shoved Oswald out the way and flexed his muscles for Ciri. He didn’t want to come off as a loser too. _I have to show this prissy little slut that I can satisfy her._

Owen pushed himself on her much more roughly, grabbing both of her pale tits in his hands. He squeezed hard, then slammed himself into Ciri’s vagina with as much power as he could get in one thrust.

He immediately realized his mistake.

Ciri was a seasoned trooper when it came to rough fucks. She had spent a great amount of time in  Skellige, and the men there were easily some of the brawniest and most unruly people in the world. Women living on the Isles very quickly learned how to take the must brutal of fucks. Hence, Ciri couldn’t easily be conquered by just one sharp thrust.

Owen, however, was a novice, and he was now literally balls deep. He started seeing black spots as Ciri’s tight pussy completely engulfed him. She was amazing, in the most terrifying and electric way possible. He began to thrust, his face turning as orange as the sun as he struggled not to cum early. _One, two, three, four, five,_ he thought. _Just keep counting._

Ciri, for her part, realized that he was struggling, and decided to push him over the edge. She pulled him down towards her and before he realized what was happening, gave him the sloppiest, wettest tongue kiss she could. As their mouths mingled, she felt his balls empty into her.

Ciri slowly pulled away from him and smiled knowingly at the two men. She shut her legs, and began to rise. 

 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

“What do you mean you want to do one final thing? You’ve both already drained your nutsacks in me!” Ciri hissed at the two men.

After they had gotten up, they’d pulled out their swords. Ciri had sprung up, ready to fight them, but quickly realized they had other uses in mind for their blades.

“You’ve gotta understand the myth, missus.”, blabbered Owen. “In Velen they say that there’s a goddess whose snatch is so tight that it’s imbued with magic. The legend says that if you fuck her with the hilt of your sword, it will turn into a magical weapon that cannot lose in battle! If ye do this for us, we’ll stay alive in this war…. please miss, we need this.”

Ciri could not believe what she was hearing.

_Serves me right for whoring myself out to all these country bumpkins. Sooner or later I was bound to stumble upon some of this nonsense._

Ciri was tempted to tell them to fuck off, but she truly felt somewhat bad for the two men. They had lasted less than a minute inside her combined, and they’d deluded themselves into thinking it was because her vagina was magical. She’d ruin their confidence if she left without giving them this one last act.

_I guess it can’t hurt for me to take a few more minutes._

“Fine, I’ll do it. Be quick about it though.”, she snapped at them.

Ciri decided to take a new position for this. She leaned over the rail slightly, looking out at Crow’s Perch. She then splayed her legs in a V, arched her back, and stuck her arse out.

Owen took his sword hilt and surveyed it first. The hilt was eight inches long and made of rough Velen steel. The bottom of it had a protruding ridge that kept his hands from slipping off, and there was also a piece of sweaty, well used cloth wrapped around the center which served as a grip. He spat on the hilt for luck, then pushed it all the way into Ciri’s pussy.

“Oh……. oh my goodness”, moaned Ciri. She couldn’t believe she’d never tried this with Witcher blades. The hilt was long and thick, and the roughness of all the different textures massaged her womb unlike anything else she’d ever had. She started to moan more and more loudly.

Owen realized that he finally managed to pleasure Ciri, and that fired him up too. He slapped her ass a few times, then gestured to Oswald. Oswald came over and brought his sword with him. Unbeknownst to Ciri, things were about to get a whole lot more crowded inside her vagina.

 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

_“OH MY FUCKING LORD.”_  Ciri screamed. She felt the most exquisite mixture of pain and pleasure. Oswald and Owen had shoved both hilts into her at the same time. Even the rock troll that she had once been with had not felt as broad and thick as this. She came, time and time again. Every squirt of her vagina left Oswald and Owen more excited. Their sword hilts were properly drenched now, with the fabric grips becoming completely inundated with her cum. To their minds, their swords were now properly magical, and they had made Ciri their bitch. Emboldened by success, they began to fuck her with their penises again, with Oswald in her asshole and Owen between her soft breasts. In some small part of her mind Ciri knew they were breaking the deal by fucking her again, but at this point she cared very little. Her only goal was to get stretched as wide open as she could.

 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

Gretka peered over the rail, seeing Ciri moaning and the two men moving in sync with her body. She also saw the metallic flash of swords. Gretka smiled.

_Wow, Ciri really does know some cool sword stuff. Those men are so friendly, too! Giving us shelter for just some sword lessons. It was very kind of them. Ciri is really skilled, she can teach them a lot._

With that last wholesome thought, Gretka turned around and took a nap. Behind her, Ciri continued the song of the sword dancer.

_////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////_

Later that evening, Ciri had her audience with the Bloody Baron. He was surprisingly kind, offering his home and food to her and Gretka for nothing at all. That night she fell asleep in her new bed, content. She dreamed of steel against flesh.


	3. The River Crossing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciri has successfully made her way to the Novigrad bridge crossing, but stumbles upon a family desperate for help. After giving up her papers of safe passage, she has to find a different way to cross the river.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is going to be lighter on sexual content. It's still there, but not to the same extent as the last two. I wanted to spend more of the chapter setting up how Ciri perceives the world and aids others. Please leave feedback on how you feel about these types of "worldbuilding" chapters! I'll use that advice to decide how to include them in the future.
> 
> Also, it'll be about a week before I upload the next chapters, which will take place in Novigrad. If you have any ideas for things that you'd like to see while Ciri is there, let me know!

The River Crossing

 

The morning sun shone brightly over the Pontar river. The waterway was a legendary one, but in recent times it had fallen into rough shape, much like the rest of the region. Its once brilliantly blue waters were murkier now, tinged with the soot and blood of war. Most activity along it had ground to a halt as the war pushed even further north, towards Novigrad. However, on the upper river bank sat one final crossing, the last functional bridge between Velen and Novigrad’s outskirts. Heavily armed Redanian soldiers guarded the river base. Their job? Prevent anyone without a pass from entering the metropolis.

 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

Ciri rode her horse through the crowd of refugees. They were a truly wretched lot, with most of them carrying more diseases than they had belongings. It was obvious that they had no passes but had gathered here in hopes of crossing anyway. Ciri kept her head down, feeling more and more guilt with every passing moment. The Bloody Baron had given her special papers which would let her cross the bridge at will. However, it didn’t make her feel any better that she’d be leaving these peasants here to die.

_What a wretched way to go._ Ciri thought. _So close to safety, and then you get told to bugger off. These people have no compassion for other human beings._

She continued to ride forward, deep in thought, when a peasant boy stepped in front of her steed.

“Hi Miss, I’m s-sssorry to interrupt you.”, stammered the child. “I just wanted to speak to you for a moment. Could you come over here to where my family is?” He then shyly gestured to the bank slightly off the main path.

Ciri surveyed the boy. He seemed like a good kid, with decent manners and a respectful tone of voice. It was probably a bad idea to stay in the camp any longer than necessary, but her guilt clouded her thinking.

_It’ll just be for a moment. See what he wants and help him if you can, then leave._

Ciri opened her mouth to speak.

“Of course I will, take me to them.”

 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

Ciri stood in front of the boy’s family, surveying their situation. The child had two other people with him, his mother and grandfather. The older man was fully blind and scrunched up on a small straw mat. He had taken sick after drinking the river water. The boy’s mother, though young, was stricken by influenza and incapable of fluid movement. The child was the only one of them left in good health.

_Oh goodness, how in the heavens will I be able to fix this,_ Ciri thought.

The boy began to speak.

“Ma’am, do you know any medicinal techniques? Any herbs or…… just anything at all that could help?” The boy looked on hopefully. “I’ve been asking everyone but no one in this camp has proper supplies or medicine.”

Ciri knew she could not help the child. She had limited medical expertise, and no materials to work with regardless. Besides, even if she could fix their health issues, it would be for naught if they stayed in this camp. New diseases seemed to spread here every single day. Ciri knew there was only one possible solution. She began to take her paper of safe passage out of her satchel.

_If the Baron saw me now, he’d call me a soft-hearted buffoon. Maybe I am._

She handed the boy the paper.

“Okay, here’s the deal.”, she began. “Take this pass and my horse. Put your elders on the horse and lead it by foot across the river bridge. The soldiers will let you through. When you get to the other side, I want you to wait by the foot of the bridge. I’ll try to meet you there afterwards and take you safely to Novigrad, okay?”

The boy gaped at her in astonishment, then threw his arms around her for a hug. Tears dripped down his face.

“Thank you so much miss. But…. how will you get across without the pass?”, he questioned.

Ciri smiled at him.

“I have my ways.”

 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Ciri stood along the bank of the river. First, she had watched the boy safely cross over with his family, and then she’d made her way further down the bank. She’d need some privacy in order to do this.

After finding a suitable clump of bushes, Ciri began to strip off her clothing. First came her top, then her pants. She folded them neatly and packed them away at the bottom of her leather satchel. Finally, she stripped off her undergarments, and was as naked as the day she was born. Her nipples tightened as the cool breeze blew past. She looked towards the water and began to mentally prepare.

Her plan was uncomplicated. She would simply swim across the river. Ciri had grown up in Skellige, and that meant that swimming large distances had become second nature to her. Plus, this water was completely placid compared to the raging oceans of the Isles. The river was an insurmountable barrier for the peasantry, but for her it wouldn’t be too bad. It would certainly be faster and easier than fucking the entire Redanian garrison, which had been her other option.

“Alright, time to hit the water”, she muttered to herself. She finished securing her satchel to her waist, then slid into the cool liquid.

 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

Ciri sailed through the water with ease, moving with speed and grace akin to a dolphin. It was a rather pleasant experience, even with the water being as dirty as it was. Ciri became lost in her thoughts as she journeyed through the Pontar.

_Wow, this is just like being a kid again! The water was nicer than this is, I suppose, and I also had company, but this isn’t too bad either. Next time I see the gals in Skellige I’ll tell them about the time I went skinny-dipping in Vel-_

**_*THWUNK*_ **

Ciri looked up in alarm, only to see a flash as something slid by her face. It had shone briefly with the gleam of metal.

**_*THWUNK*_ **

This time, it was clear. Someone was firing arrows at her from the surface. Ciri looked around, then spotted the small hull of a boat to her right. She surfaced as quickly as she could and turned her face towards the boat.

“OI!”, she screamed out. “I’m not a Drowner! Please, for the love of the gods, cease fire!”

Staring back at her was a Redanian archer. He was the sole man aboard the small raft.

“What in the ruddy hell….”, he said. The man was clearly in shock. “You’re not a Drowner, you’re a mermaid! Bloody hell, I’ve found a real-life mermaid! I’ve got to show you to the men at camp!”

Ciri’s face paled. She did not think that things would end well for her if she were fished out the water and taken to the Redanian camp as a “mermaid”. Every man there would take a turn on her, and there were at least thirty of them. No, she’d need to find an alternative. Luckily for her, the man seemed very naïve. She’d have to use that to her advantage.

As the man rowed his raft towards her, she began bobbing up and down in the water a little bit more. It gave him a nicer view of her tits, but more importantly it distorted the water. She needed to obscure the fact that she had legs if he was to continue thinking that he’d found a mermaid, and not just some woman that was illegally crossing the river.

Finally, the man stopped his boat before her, gazing down at the thing below him.

“I knew mermaids were real.”, he said triumphantly. “The speed you swam at, and your beauty… the garrison always called me a loon, but I’ll show them! Just come with me Missus Mermaid.”

_Gods, what a moron._ Ciri thought. _First the Baron’s men, now this? I’ve really got to get out of Velen._ First, though, she’d need to convince him that he shouldn’t take her to the main base.

“Yes, I am in fact a real mermaid.”, she said with a pleasant smile gracing her lips. “I’ve come a long way to shore so that I can meet with men like yourself. I’ve been watching you, you see. Human men are so handsome, I just wanted to know what it would be like to be with one of you!” She watched him closely as he processed the information.

_I really hope this idiot wasn’t told The Little Mermaid as a kid._ she thought.

“Well, if you want to learn what it’s like to be with human men then that should not be a problem at all.”, he said with a perverse grin. “I’m certain that we will all want to get to know you very well indeed.”

Ciri frowned at him slightly.

“There’s one small issue with that though. According to the, uh, Mermaid codes… the first man I copulate with owns me as his property. If I went to the base, then one of the other men would own me. However, if you were to fuck me, then I would be yours alone. Why bother sharing?”, she told him, making up nonsense as quickly as she could.

The soldier fell for it, hook, line and sinker. He beamed back at her, elated.

“Not a problem, I’m the only one here right now. Come in the boat! I’ll plough you better than any Fishman, or any of the other soldiers for that matter. Can’t wait to have my own personal mermaid, oh gods.”

“Well, I haven’t got legs or anything.”, Ciri quickly said. “I can’t come in the boat. But if you pull yours pants down and stick your penis over the edge, I can consummate this bond in a slightly different way.”

The soldier was visibly disappointed, but he got over it quickly. After all, he was still going to get blown by a mermaid.  He pulled off his trousers, gave his cock a few jerks, then laid it over the edge of the raft.

Ciri pulled herself up with one hand and used the other to start pumping him. The soldier closed his eyes and leaned forward slight as Ciri went to work. Her first move was to suck on his ballsack., which he seemed to enjoy immensely. She then began to plant small kisses on the tip of his penis, noting that the man appeared to be extremely sensitive to her every touch.

“Alright, I’m going to begin now.”, she warned him. He was precipitously placed on the edge of the boat and seemed oblivious to anything but her mouth. He nodded absentmindedly at her warning.

Ciri took him by the shaft, sucked her cheeks in, and took his cock all the way to the back of her throat.

***SPLASH***

 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

“Help me mermaid! Dear gods, I don’t know how to swim!”, shrieked the archer as he gesticulated in every direction. Ciri’s deepthroating skills had quite literally driven him over the edge.

“How did they put you on boat duty if you can’t swim?!”, Ciri yelled. However, she got no response as the man slipped under the water.

_What a fucking disaster._ She thought. _He’s a complete joke. Still, I can’t let him die out here like this._

Ciri dove under the water and grabbed him, quickly pulling off his heavier articles of armor and clothing. She brought their two naked bodies together, pressing him tightly against her wet skin. After feeling that she had a solid grip on him, she sped off towards land.

 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

The two flopped against the bank, having made it to safety. Ciri scanned the shore for threats but saw none.

_I guess I’m in Novigrad now. I haven’t made it here how I thought I would, but at least I’m here._

Next to her, the archer was choking on river water. Ciri leaned over and began chest compressions, and after a few convulsions he seemed to be okay. The two sat there quietly for a few minutes afterwards.

“You aren’t actually a mermaid.”, he said, breaking the silence. He motioned towards her two feet.

“No, I’m not.”, Ciri said testily. “I figured the first words out of your mouth would’ve been “Thank you”, by the way.”

“Yes, thank you, I’m just a bit sad. Thought I found somethin’ real special….” He gazed at her bare crotch shamelessly for another moment. “Though, I guess I still have. You’re incredible ya know? Your mouth, your swimming ability, it’s all great.” He sheepishly looked at her, decided he had nothing to lose, and went for it. “Do you wanna have a plough anyway? I know that we just had that near-death experience and all but we’re both here and naked…. I never even came when you were sucking me.”

“So let me get this straight.”, Ciri began incredulously. “You nearly just died as a result of me giving you a blowjob. Just a few minutes ago your lungs were half full of river water. And now you’re ready to fuck?”

The archer looked her dead in the eye.

“Yes.”

_Men really are something else._

Ciri looked him over. He wasn’t half bad. Compared to the old innkeeper and the soldiers back at Crow’s Perch he was very muscular, particularly in his arms. His cock, through the entire endeavor, had never even lost its hardness. Clearly she aroused him quite a bit. Ciri bit her lip and looked him back in the eye.

_I’m an absolute floozy now, aren’t I? I can’t believe I’m doing this._

Without a word, she clambered onto him. With one hand she grabbed his penis, and with the other she put a single finger to his lips. She pressed her wet hole to his cock and began to ride.

 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

Ciri strode to the family which she’d saved. They had waited patiently at the other end of the bridge, just as she’d asked. The boy beamed at her as she walked over.

“Thank you so much, ma’am.”, he said. “When we get to Novigrad I’m sure there will be doctors that I can take my family to. How did your trip across the river go?” He pointed to her still wet hair.

“Ah, it was fine.”, Ciri said with a nonchalant grin. “Met a friend along the way and did some stuff, then I made my way here. Come now, let’s get inside those city barriers.”

Ciri wrapped her arm around the boy and began the walk towards the imposing walls of Novigrad. Behind them, the Redanian archer smiled.


	4. Tears in the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciri decides to help Dandelion raise the money they need to pay off Whoreson Junior. However, her attempt to whore herself for information goes south this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is an exploration of the idea that Ciri's beauty isn't always enough to make her sexual plans come off flawlessly.Be warned this this chapter contains dubious consent.

Novigrad: Tears in the Rain

 

“He wants us to, for lack of a better way of saying this.... steal treasure from the vault of Sigi Reuven”

Ciri stared back at Dandelion, mouth agape. The two were seated in the Rosemary and Thyme, Dandelion’s rather dilapidated inn. The topic? How they would get Whoreson Junior to help them fix Ciri’s phylactery.

“Why does he want us to do _that_ of all things?”, Ciri asked. “Surely he would just want money? Why does he care which form it comes in?”

Dandelion shrugged at her.

“Look, I don’t know why he wants Reuven’s treasure specifically, I just know that those are the conditions. And, uh…. he actually wants money too. About 500 crowns worth of it, in fact. Apparently, the materials that he’s going to need to purchase for the Phylactery are not cheap.”

Dandelion fidgeted with his collar nervously, and then sat back in silence. It was clearly a difficult situation, but he was firmly committed to helping Ciri. She was like a sister to him.

“Look, Ciri.”, he said as he leaned in. “Don’t worry about this, okay? I’ve got some connections that I can bring into play. I’ll do the heavy lifting with the vault stuff, you just figure out how to get the 500 crowns. Try starting with the King of Beggars, people say that he’ll hand out coin if he thinks you’ll be useful to him in the future. I’m heading out now, it’s important that we do this all quickly. Let Priscilla know that I’ve gone when she comes back downstairs.”

With that, Dandelion swept out the room and into the city streets.

*****

A few moments passed, and the weather outside worsened. Rain began to pound down on the rickety wooden roofing of the inn. The sound of scuffling feet rang out as the cityfolk ran for shelter. Ciri, through it all, remained deep in thought.

_I’ve got to get this Phylactery fixed, otherwise Avallach is doomed. But how will I get the funding? Should I just whore myself as I’ve been doing?_

Ciri glanced out the window and sighted a gaggle of prostitutes soliciting men. The women, desperate for a sale, grabbed the men by the crotch, but they pushed the whores off and continued looking for dry shelter. 

_Would it even work in Novigrad? Seems like every other woman in this city is already whoring herself anyway. I’d hardly be special. I may need to use a different kind of coercion here._

Ciri’s train of thought was interrupted by Priscilla appearing at the top of the staircase. The troubadour had just finished with her bath, and she wore a cotton robe. Her long blonde hair flowed out freely, still slightly wet from the water of the tub. She flashed a smile at Ciri and descended the stairs.

 _Gods, the things I’d do to her…._ Ciri thought.

Truth be told, the moment she’d met Priscilla she’d wanted to sleep with her. After all, Ciri was also into girls, and Priscilla was one of the prettiest, most interesting gals she’d met in recent times. Plus, she hadn’t had many opportunities with the fairer sex during her time in Velen. Those ambitions had been put to rest when she realized that Dandelion was in a committed relationship with her, but every time she saw Priscilla the fleeting thought still crossed her mind.

Priscilla sat down at the table across from Ciri and looked at her questioningly.

“Dandelion told me that he would fill you in on the situation. Did he tell you that you’d need to get the crowns?” she asked.

Ciri nodded, then began to speak.

“I know what I need to do, I’ve just been pondering exactly how. Dandelion suggested to me that I ought to speak to a “King of Beggars”, but I haven’t the faintest idea how to find him. As far as I know, he’s hidden away.”

“Yes, he resides in a hidden location. Most just call it the Putrid Grove but have no idea which portion of the city it’s in.”, Priscilla said.  “I think I know what you should do.  It’s said that the easiest way to find the King is to bribe the beggars under his employment.” She paused for a moment, seemingly split on whether to continue, but then resumed her briefing.

“The thing is, you can’t just talk to any one of them. Most of them can’t give you his location. Chances are that they aren’t privy to that information themselves. You must speak to an old beggar, one who’s been in service for a long time and survived the streets. Those are the types that would know the location of the Putrid Grove.”

“Would you happen to know of any specific beggar that I should look for?”, Ciri inquired. “There aren’t that many old ones left, to be honest. I need to start with something concrete rather than sweeping the entire city, time is of the essence.”

Priscilla broke eye contact with Ciri, obviously feeling discomfort. When she looked up, however, she saw that Ciri was still waiting intently for an answer.

“I know of one, yes. But Ciri, he’s…. well, you just shouldn’t do this. He has the information, but you really, really don’t want to involve yourself with this man. Please trust me on this.”, Priscilla said with surprising forcefulness.

“Priscilla, I can’t afford to waste time here! I can’t tell you why yet, but this mission is crucial, and I can’t let some beggar scare me off.”, Ciri said. “Please, just tell me now. I can handle myself.”

“There’s a man in the Bits…”, Priscilla finally muttered. “No one knows his name, and he doesn’t have friends or family. He’s got one eye and a thick, matted beard. Very old person, of course. Try looking for him, he ought to know where to point you. Just remember not to harm him. If you do, it may complicate matters with the King of Beggars.”

Ciri stood from the table abruptly, chair scraping along behind her. After grabbing her cloak and sword, she made for the exit. Before she left, though, she turned to face Priscilla.

“Priscilla?”

“Yes, Ciri?”, Priscilla responded.

“How do you know this man?”

Priscilla’s pale face turned a shade of deep scarlet.

“I, ah…. don’t. I just know the stories, ok? Word gets round, but I’ve never met him in my life”

With that, Priscilla turned away, signaling the end of the conversation.  

*****

Ciri briskly strode through the slums as the rain poured down around her. This part of town was usually brimming with lowlifes, but the rain seemed to have emptied the streets out. As she walked, she couldn’t help but think about her exchange with Priscilla.

_It’s obvious that she did something with this beggar. Something that she’s too ashamed to admit…. how else would she have been so knowledgeable about him?_

Ciri stepped through a small archway. It led into one of the main roads of the Bits, a long, narrow corridor flanked by buildings on all sides. In the very middle of the street sat a cloaked man.

 _Now that is odd._ Ciri thought. _Why would he be the only person out here during this storm?_

She walked up to the man at a slightly slower pace. His features were obscured from a distance thanks to the heavy downpour, but as she neared him, she realized that he was an exact match for the description Priscilla had given her.  When she got close, she realized that he was smiling and patting the ground next to him.

_He wants me to take a seat._

Ciri lowered herself onto the slippery cobble and waited for him to speak.

*****

“So, another beauty has come to make a deal with the Beggar of the Bits, eh?”, he croaked out. His sole eye scanned over Ciri as he spoke. “I guess I have a reputation now, haha!”

“What do you mean?”, Ciri asked.

“Well, everyone wants to talk to the ol beggars of Novigrad to pry our brains for knowledge. We know all the drug rackets, the best holes in the wall, the fresh rumors that spread every day”, he said. “It’s just that the others want hard coin for their information. Pretty gals come to me now because they know I’m ok with a _softer_ payment.” As he cackled that out, he roughly wrapped an arm around Ciri’s waist and hugged her close to him. He nuzzled her neck with his mouth, and with the other hand, he started to undo his pants.

“Hey, wait a minute!”, Ciri yelped. “We don’t even have a deal yet! I need information about the location of the Putrid Grove, and I need to know what other opportunities there are in this city to quickly make a significant amount of coin. If you don’t know, then there’s no deal!” As she finished her demands, she broke free of his grasp and stared at him angrily.

The beggar considered her list, then began to laugh. He pulled his cock out and began masturbating it in her direction.  The bulbous head glistened with precum.

“Listen girl. I have the information you want. And we both know that. Why the false pride? Are you angry that I’m doing away with your pretenses and treating you like a common street whore?”

He smirked at her, all while using his sole eye to feast on every curve of her wet body.

“You fucking twat!”, Ciri sputtered back. “Do not call me a whore!”

“So you aren’t a whore, eh? What did you intend to offer me then sugar? You’re obviously as broke as they come, so it can’t be money.”, he said, obviously enjoying tormenting his catch.

The man wiped the rain from his face, leered at her, then moved back towards her. He took one of her breasts in his hand and began to knead it. Ciri was about to object, but then realized there was no point.

_He’s right. I acted as though I came here with agency, but I only ever really had one option. I’ll have to let him have his fun._

“Do you at least have somewhere more private for us to do this?”, she asked quietly, conceding defeat to the old beggar.

The ancient looking man smiled even more broadly.

“If I had a home then I wouldn’t be a beggar, ha! No, I’ll be ploughing you right on this road.”

With that, the old man began to strip. Each layer of clothing revealed a strong stench which even the rain could not wash away. This was not the odor of Velen, it was much worse. It was the stink of living in city gutters. Ciri couldn’t help but gag as she went about stripping off her own clothing.

The old man forced her to her hands and knees, and roughly pushed into her pussy. Ciri’s back arched as her wet slit was violated. He fucked her savagely, with no care for her pleasure. He didn’t bother touching her clit. He just wanted to ride her like a horse.   

“Wow, you’re loose as fuck!”, he grunted, lying through his teeth. Truth be told, she was very tight, but he wasn’t going to let her know that.

“You should really stop spreading your legs for so many men, feels like I’m trying to plough air, bitch!”

Ciri’s face burned red with shame. She couldn’t help but take it to heart. She knew that the corrosive old man was doing this because of the way she’d initially reacted, but some small part of her mind kept telling her that all his insults were true.

All of this rough fucking was taking its toll on her hands and knees. Every sharp thrust into her vaginal canal grazed her skin against the brittle street, and she began to bleed. Water and blood mixed freely against the cobblestone.

 _It’s ok,_ she thought as she grit her teeth in pain. _Any moment now and this will all be over._

The beggar began to piston into her as hard as he could, slapping her tits with every thrust. Her body trembled, not just with pain, but also with unintentional pleasure. Her mind burned with shame, because whether she wanted to admit it or not, this brutal treatment was bringing her closer to orgasm. Her hips started bucking back against him, reacting to the thrusts. The dampness of her nether regions kept increasing by the second, and her pussy lips began to swell with arousal. The cold, hard rain no longer mattered; she felt hot and sweaty. She could feel her soaked vagina leaving cream on his cock every time it pulled back from her.  

“Oh, ohhhhh god,”, she murmured, praying that the old man wasn’t hearing her small moans of pleasure. He kept thudding into her g-spot, but just as she came close to orgasm, he pulled out.

“What the fuck!”, Ciri screamed in needy, horny anger. She turned to face the man and was greeted by him leering at her once again.

“Do you really think that your dry, cavernous vagina was going to get me off? Felt like a desert in there! I’ve fucked a plump midwife that had a sweeter pussy than you.”, he said, basking in the look of pure loathing that she gave him. “If I couldn’t cum, I wasn’t going to let you! Open that mouth up, bitch.”

As angry as she was, she just wanted him to go back inside her and finish her orgasm. She presented her full, soft lips to him.

He pressed his foul penis into her mouth. Even though he had been balls deep inside her, it still hadn’t been enough to clean the stench and grime from his cock. She began gagging hard, but he just used it as an opportunity to push himself deeper into her throat. Finally, he was all the way in.

“I haven’t used the latrine today”, he said mischievously. “But you’ll do just fine.”

Ciri realized what he planned to do far too late.

Urine slowly began to stream from the tip of his cock directly into her throat. Ciri’s eyes widened, and then the ordeal began. She tried her best to keep up, but he was now peeing harder than ever. Stream after stream flooded her throat and overflowed into her mouth cavity. She began coughing, then choking. But he didn’t stop. In fact, as the rancid piss came out at full force, he began to fuck her throat too. It felt like she was drowning in the most disgusting sea known to man.

Ciri couldn’t stop herself. She started crying. Her lower body went limp as her upper body was used as a toilet. She slumped against the hard cobble and let the tears flow. Her only consolation was that this disgusting man couldn’t see her tears in the rain.

*****

The man pulled Ciri up towards his face. She’d gone limp several minutes ago, no longer giving him the pleasure of her reaction. He knew one final way to get a rise out of her, though.

“Tell me, bitch. How is it that your hair is so white?”, he inquired as he stroked himself towards completion.

“It just is. Are we done here?”, Ciri asked flatly.

“Nay.”, the old beggar replied. “Actually, I have my own theory. I think your hair can’t possibly be that white naturally. It must have to do with all the jizz you spend your time in, you fucking slut.”

With that, he pointed his penis at her hair and let loose. Stream after stream of white semen collided with her head, ruining her hair. Large clumps became stuck together by the smelly, sticky substance. Ciri’s humiliation was complete.

Ciri looked back at him, face completely blank.

“Can I have the information now?”, she said as blandly as she could.

The beggar was disappointed that he didn’t get a reaction, but decided that it was time to put an end to his game.

“Sure. The Putrid Grove is located right next to the Rosemary and Thyme.”

Ciri was unable to hide her shock, and the beggar burst into laughter.

“So, I take it you live there and you never even saw the place? Ha! Say hello to Priscilla for me. After I finished with her throat she couldn’t sing for a week! And I suppose I’ll give you the same tip I gave her. If you want quick money, try putting that pussy to work for Vimme Vivaldi.”

With that, he turned to leave. Putting his back to Ciri proved to be the last mistake he ever made.

*****

 

Ciri sprinted up the street, away from the scene of the murder. She’d lost her self-control and taken his life in a fit of rage. She spotted a small alley and ran into it.

Peace, quiet.

Now that she was completely alone, she broke down. Her mouth tasted of piss, her hands and knees hurt like hell, and worst of all, the repulsive man had still managed to make her body feel pleasure. She felt like gutter trash. Still, she had to it, no matter how trashy it felt. She moved her fingers down to her swollen, needy clit, and massaged it. Within a few seconds she was spraying her pussy juices in temporary ecstasy. Now that her mind had cleared itself of arousal, though, she could see the wreckage that the night had left behind.

_I lost control back there. I always go into these things thinking that I hold the cards, but I fucked up….. this can’t happen again._

With that in mind, Ciri dressed herself and headed out the alley. She now had the information she needed, though it came at great cost.


	5. The Dwarven Banker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciri decides to visit the bank to acquire funds. One thing leads to another, and she ends up in bed with three women and a dwarf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a chapter which is going to be split between both Ciri and another character. I wanted to do this to try to mix things up a bit. Let me know if you like chapters where I deviate from Ciri a bit, or whether you want me to just remain focused on her!

The Dwarven Banker

 

Ciri stalked through the dark sewers, eyes peeled. She was here to put an end to the Water Hag which roamed the southeast portion of Novigrad’s vast underground networks. Behind her lay the corpses of countless Drowners which had stood in her path.

 _“Clear out that bit of the sewers, and 300 crowns are yours.”_ , the King of Beggars had told her. It was a disgusting job, but Ciri was up to the task. Besides, she’d felt more like a prostitute than a Witcher in recent times. This sort of employment, as nasty and difficult as it was, made her feel like she was more than just her body parts.

Ahead of her, Ciri saw a dark mass shifting in a puddle. She crouched into a battle stance and readied her sword, then began moving forward. Suddenly, the mass sprung to life, and it threw a dark glob of goop at her.

_SPLACK_

The disgusting blob of fecal matter, mud, and sewage crashed into the wall behind Ciri. The Water Hag had only barely missed her.

“You disgusting piece of shit.”, Ciri muttered from behind clenched teeth. She rushed forward and began to swing her sword.  
  
“How do you like that silver!?”, she screamed. With every swipe, she drove the Water Hag further back into a corner. The monstrosity seemed to realize the peril of the situation and fought even harder, but it was to no avail. Ciri was simply too good a swordsman. The Hag backed into the wall, looked at Ciri, and let out its final scream.

*****

_BANG_

The heavy, waterlogged head of the Water Hag made quite the sound when Ciri dropped it to the table. Surveying it was the King of Beggars, who seemed impressed with her work. He looked it over a few times, then nodded to Ciri.

“Well done, young lady. My beggars will be able to return to that part of the sewers unmolested now. Thank you.” With that, he tossed a bag in her direction.

“Your pay.”

Ciri grinned at him and accepted the bag. This would give her over half of what she needed for Whoreson Junior. However, as soon as she lifted the bag, she knew something was wrong.

“Ah, don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the pay.”, she began diplomatically. “But are you certain that this is 300 crowns?”

The King looked her in the eyes and held his gaze without saying a word. Ciri began to grow uncomfortable, but when the moment became the most tense he spoke.

“As it turns out, I did not give you 300 crowns.”, he said plainly. “It has come to my attention that you killed one of my associates. Now, I didn’t want to turn you in to the City Guard, but you still need to face the consequences of your actions. You’ll accept 150 crowns, and be glad that I did not dock more.”  
  


*****

Ciri sulkily walked through the cobbled streets of the Fish Market. She could hardly believe that she’d been so stupid. All that time and effort had been put into a contract that she hadn’t been properly paid for. She’d underestimated how quickly the King would find out that she’d been responsible for the killing.

_What will I do now? The deadline is approaching, but I have a paltry sum. Whoreson Junior won’t accept this._

As she wandered towards Hierarch Square, she noticed a sign emblazoned on a corner building.

**VIVALDI BANK**

“Hold on a moment.”, she muttered. “Where have I heard of Vivaldi before?”

After wracking her brain, she finally recalled where she got the information from. The Beggar of the Bits had mentioned it to her in his final moments.

_He said to use my charms on Vimme Vivaldi… I suppose it couldn’t hurt to try. If anything, I can see what other financial options he has._

Ciri took a few deep breaths, then crossed over to the bank entrance.

 

*****

“Hey there sweetheart, how can I help you?”

The boisterous, pleasant sounding dwarf greeted her as she walked in. She was the only customer, so all his attention was on her. She scanned him quickly. Vivaldi was about three feet tall and bald, but his massive beard more than made up for the lack of hair on his head. The gold and blue robes that adorned him immediately gave him the air of a very wealthy individual. Ciri cleared her throat and began to address him.

“Hello there. I’d like to get...ah...make some crowns. I, ah….”, her voice trailed off as she addressed him. She wasn’t quite sure how to broach the topic of sex with this cheerful dwarf. Luckily for her, he filled the silence.

“Well, there’s plenty of options if you’d like to get crowns! I can convert Orens, withdraw money from your account, offer you loans, or help you explore financial options on the Novigrad stock exchange.” With that all said, he walked over to her and sat down beside her, papers in hand.

Ciri grimaced. None of those options would work for her. Even taking out a loan would be impossible with her lack of credit or property. No credible bank would give a person like her the sum that she needed. No, she’d have to be direct with him. She turned to him and looked him right in the eye.

“I appreciate all of those options, but I’m not here for that.”, she said flatly. “I’m here because I heard that you appreciate a good fucking and that I could make some crowns doing business with you.”

Ciri half expected him to react with anger, but the dwarf only seemed to become even happier as his sexual preferences were aired out in front of him.

“Aye, I do! I guess word is getting round now.” He stroked his long, bushy beard a few times, then continued.

“I offer high pay to the most striking and prominent women in Novigrad. See, normal whores are a dime a dozen here, and in my early years I used to have plenty of fun with them. Thing is, they don’t do it for me anymore. Once you’ve had your share of basic Novigrad whores, the entire thing becomes boring.” He looked her up and down a few times and whistled.

“You, though? You’re special. Never ploughed a gal with ashen hair before!” He grinned at her playfully.

“I’ll tell you what. Take this twenty crown down payment, then come back here tonight at 10. The terms are that you must agree to do any sexual act I ask of you while you’re here. Do you agree?”

Ciri looked down for a moment. After her experience with the beggar she couldn’t help but be wary of terms like that, but the dwarf seemed like a decent fellow. Besides, she wasn’t able refuse such an offer in her current position. She glanced back at Vivaldi.

“I’ll be there.”

 

*****

It was a clear, chilly night. Ciri approached Vivaldi Bank with naught but a thin cloak to cover her nude form underneath. She walked to the entrance and greeted the doormaid, who seemed to know that she had business here.

“You may come in.”

The doormaid opened the entrance to the bank up, and Ciri walked in. This time, however, she was directed to go to the uppermost story of the house, where Vimme Vivaldi had his private quarters. As she climbed the stairs, she could begin to hear moans and thumping ever more clearly. Finally, she reached the top floor, and pushed the entrance open.

Before her was a small hallway with a bench and a table. To the left of the bench was the entrance to Vivaldi’s room. In the bench sat two scantily clad women, who both glanced at Ciri in curiosity.

“Looks like we have a fresh guest!”, said the woman on the left. She was an elf, with sleek brown hair gliding over her long, pointed ears. The top she wore was so low cut that her breasts were practically already spilling out. The woman on the right nodded, then offered a smile to Ciri.

“Hello, I’m Maria Louisa La Valette.’, she said. Ciri’s face flashed with recognition, and Maria laughed.

“Yes, I am of _those_ La Valletes”, she said, clearly enjoying the effect her name had. “Come, take a seat with us.”

Ciri walked over and sat next to the beautiful women. As she did, she could hear the moaning and thumping getting louder from within the room. She turned to the ladies at her side, filled with curiosity.

“Why are you guys here?”, she asked of them both. Nissa, the elf, was the first to respond.

“Well, I’m the leader of the performing troupe called The Puffins. We’ve fallen on hard times and I needed keep the group afloat, so I decided to come take out a loan with the bank. Turns out that Vimme had his eyes on me for a while and wanted to fuck me. He follows all the performing arts in this town and had seen me on stage. I guess the appeal is that he gets to plough a famous Elven woman. Dwarves really get off on the idea that they can make slim, dainty eleven women their bitches, so I bend over and let him have his way with me. Regardless, the pay is good and usually he makes it fun, so I come here often.” She brushed a strand of hair out her eye and turned to Maria expectantly.

“It may sound stupid, but I’ve always maintained a certain lifestyle.”, Maria began. “I was raised in the Temerian court and enjoyed all the privileges of royalty. Since the collapse of Temeria I’ve had to scrape by with whatever scraps I can get by allying with Nilfgaard. It just wasn't enough money for me to maintain my luxuries. I decided that I’d strike a deal with Vimme since he’s got plenty of money and a reputation as a horndog.” She nodded towards the room, from which once could hear earsplitting moans and Dwarven war cries.

“He gets off on ploughing me because I’m royalty. Really makes him rock hard when he thinks “oh, I’m balls deep inside a queen”.”

She smiled broadly at Ciri.

“So, why are you here?”

Ciri was about to answer when suddenly the door to the room flung open. Before them stood Vimme Vivaldi in all his sweaty, Dwarven glory. He was entirely naked and covered in lipstick and bite marks. He smiled to the ladies, and wordlessly beckoned for them to enter the room. They filed in, one after the other.

Ciri entered the room and could not believe her eyes.

*****

On the bed in the middle of the room laid Priscilla. Her pale white legs were splayed wide open, and her glistening vagina was displayed proudly to the world. The blonde woman’s hair spread out behind her, and it had little specks of jizz in it. Her pussy had taken a real beating, with massive globs of cum leaking out from the reddened, swollen lips. Small mewls came from her mouth in the aftermath of the Dwarven dicking she’d just received. On her face she wore a blindfold, so she didn’t know that Ciri had entered the room.

“We were role-playing.”, Vimme explained. “I was a big, seven-foot-tall male! At least I was with the power of her imagination, ha! Isn’t that right songbird?” He slapped his hand across her ass as he asked her.

“Of course, honey.”, she purred back to him. “You were very big, bigger and stronger than my boyfriend, in fact.”

Ciri couldn’t believe what she had walked into. Priscilla was cucking Dandelion with a dwarf, and she seemed over the moon about it. She didn’t have long to dwell on that thought though, as Vivaldi quickly passed out jugs of Mahakam Ale to each woman in the room.

“Alright, we have a competition on our hands!”, he bellowed. “The first woman to finish her drink gets a bit of extra coin, and an extra special reward! The woman who finishes last will get my cock up their bum with NO LUBE! I hope you’re in the drinking mood gals!”

Ciri glanced at the other two women. They seemed unsurprised, so maybe these challenges were a normal thing. Ciri had no intention of losing out on the extra coin, so she got herself ready to chug.

“Three, two, one, begin!”, Vimme bellowed.

Ciri tilted her head back and let the liquor course down her throat. Mahakam Ale was potent stuff, and she was drinking a massive amount of it. Still, she was an experienced drinker, and before she knew it the jug was empty. She wiped her lips, pleased, and saw that Nissa had finished shortly after her. Maria came in last, and she seemed to accept her fate. She stripped off what little clothes she had, but then shot a sly look at Vimme. Without a word, she poured the remnants of the alcohol over her tight, puckered asshole, providing a very interesting kind of lube anyway. Vimme gave her a funny look, then burst into laughter.

“Aye, you can use that if you like!”, he said between laughs. “It’s only gonna burn more when I wreck your bottom, but if that’s what you want then so be it.” He turned to Ciri and gave her a look of pride.

“As for you, that was some fine drinking! You’ll get another 25 crowns when the night is done. Your special reward is that you get to eat a cream pie.”

He gave her the biggest grin he could muster, and pointed at Priscilla’s dirty, overflowing pussy.

“Don’t stop eating till it’s clean as a Nun’s”

*****

Ciri moved onto the bed and laid her hands on the inside of Priscilla’s warm, sweaty thighs. She’d dreamed of getting a taste of the troubadour, but she had not thought that it would be under such circumstances. As she lowered her mouth down to the battered, semen filled quim, Priscilla kneaded her fingers through Ciri’s hair and breathily began asking questions.

“To whom do I owe this pleasure?”, she giggled out, short of breath from the pounding she had taken. “Is it you, Maria? I love that thing you do with the rough of your tongue, rub it all over my clit…. Or is it Nissa? I adore how long your tongue is, you can stroke my g-spot so easily! Gods, I'm going to cum onto your face.”

Ciri didn’t respond. After all, her voice would be a dead giveaway. She simply crossed her fingers that Priscilla wouldn’t take the blindfold off, and went down on her.

Ciri began by carefully licking each outer fold of Priscilla’s swollen, engorged pussy. Each lip was ultra-sensitive, and Ciri could feel the way that Priscilla’s thighs tightened with each swipe of her tongue. She swallowed up the sweaty cum and pussy cream that had leaked onto the outside, eliciting sharp moans from the singer. As Ciri feasted, she could hear Maria start to get anally fucked behind her.

“Oh FUCK, give me that DWARF COCK honey!”, she yelled, losing all regality once the dick was inside her. Ciri smirked to herself. It hadn’t taken Maria long to go from upper class to cheap bimbo.

Ciri finished clearing off the outside of Priscilla’s cunt. She stuck two fingers on each side of the sloppy hole and pried it open, then slowly worked her tongue as deep inside as she could. It was easily one of the tightest, sweetest pussies that Ciri had ever tasted.

“Gods, that’s incredible. You can’t be Nissa or Maria, bu- _ohhhhhhhhhhhh.”_ Priscilla was cut short as Ciri began slowly circling her tongue around the wet, sticky cavern. She needed to collect as much cum as she could. She began to suck on the snatch, vacuuming the liquid into her mouth and swallowing it down. Ciri realized too late that she was doing too good a job, however. As she finished cleaning out the remains of Vimme’s cum, Priscialla quivered and exploded in ecstasy. Her drenched cunt bombarded Ciri with new waves of cum, but female this time. Ciri swallowed as much of the pleasantly sweet liquid as she could, then flopped back onto the bed. As she laid back, she felt Priscilla move towards her face.

“I don’t know who you are, but thanks for cleaning me out.”, she giggled. She then felt out for Ciri’s face and locked her lips down on her. They began to make out as Maria exploded in orgasm behind them. Nissa, for her part, was now feeling quite lonely, and horny. She walked over to Ciri and Priscilla's intertwined bodies with her empty liquor bottle in hand. She shoved the bottle into Ciri's quim, and then began to grind her wet hole onto Ciri's thigh. The three women eventually formed one writhing mass of sex crazed whores. 

 

*****

As the night went on, things grew more and more heated. Ciri and Maria stroked each other’s needy clits as they watched Nissa get conquered doggy-style, and then they watched as Vimme made Priscilla try to sing while she had his cock down her throat. Vimme then titfucked Maria while calling himself the King of Temeria. Finally, it was Ciri’s turn to get some dwarf action. He laid himself down on the bed, with his thick cock standing at full attention despite all the events of the night.

“Alright, you with the white hair. I want you to ride my dick. Elf, bring that pussy over to my mouth. While you two ride me, I want you to tongue each other’s mouths.

Ciri did as she was told and lowered her snatch towards the massive cock. Dwarf cocks were about as tall as human ones, but the difference was thickness. They were often as twice as girthy, and it could feel like having a hot, slippery log inside of you. Ciri came down on him hard and began to ride. As big as it was, it still eased nicely into Ciri’s experienced, well lubricated snatch. Nissa, on the other hand, was rubbing her well used clit all over Vimme’s face, coating him in pussy juice and sweat. Ciri met Nissa’s mouth, and the three bodies moved in unison.

*****

It was the end of the night, and every woman had been pumped full of liquor and semen. Dwarf stamina meant that multiple loads were available for everyone, after all. However, it was clear that his favorite was Priscilla. He unloaded on her time and time again, with her often wrapping her legs around his waist as her pumped her full of cum. By the end of the night, her blonde hair had enough streaks of white it is that she almost looked like Ciri. Ciri, who was at this point very tired and tipsy, could still barely believe what she was seeing. The other women were into it, sure, but you could tell that they were there for the paycheck. Priscilla had no such reservations, and openly mocked Dandelion in favor of Vimme.

“I LOVE you Vimme. Breed the fuck out of me, oh lord!”, she’d screamed as he demolished her dripping cunt.

_She’s either a complete cheating whore, or the greatest actress in Novigrad._

*****

Finally, the time had come for them to be paid. Vimme counted out 150 crowns for both Maria and Nissa, and the two women took their leave. He handed Ciri 175 crowns with a small smile, and then walked over to Priscilla and gave her 25 crowns.

Ciri couldn’t believe it.

Priscilla was whoring herself like this for so little? How could it be?

Vimme then walked behind Priscilla and started to undo the blindfold, which she had obediently kept on through the whole night. The soaked cloth fell to the ground, and Priscilla could finally see. She saw Ciri staring back at her.

*****

Ciri and Priscilla walked alongside each other in the early morning sun as they headed back to the Rosemary and Thyme. Priscilla had decided to come clean to her as they made their way home.

“Yes, I have cheated on Dandelion with a lot of other men. Look, being a troubadour isn’t easy now, the pay is complete shit. People don’t go to the theater when a war is destroying the economy. I work my pussy for money because that’s the only choice I have, and it seems like you made that realization too.”

She turned to Ciri, expecting an argument, but instead she only found her to be nodding in agreement. Ciri smiled at her faintly.

“Yeah, made the same conclusion.”, she said. “I won’t tell Dandelion what you’re doing, that’s between you two…. but I do have a request.”

“And what would that be?”

Ciri’s looked her over lustily.

“If you insist on cheating, save some of that pussy for me.”

*****

Later that morning Ciri decided to count out her money. She nearly had enough for Whoreson Junior. She’d just need to find a way to make 125 more crowns. Luckily, over the course of the night Vimme had given her an idea.

_How about a round of Gwent?_

 


	6. Gwent at the Whorehouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciri uses the Passiflora Gwent Night to gain the rest of the funding that she needs to pay Whoreson Junior. M/F and F/F.

Gwent at the Whorehouse

 

At the meeting point between the Gildorf district and St.Gregory’s bridge stood the Passiflora. The legendary whorehouse had provided its services to the citizens of Novigrad for many years, and throughout all this time it had come to establish itself as the brothel of choice for the elite. However, the establishment offered more than just skilled courtesans. One could also enjoy fine dining, massages, baths, and strong liquor within its walls. The newest addition to the ever-expanding list of services that the Passiflora offered, however, was Gwent. The Madame of the institution had picked up on its popularity and decided to host weekly tournaments. Between the solid prize pools and the chance to win a night with one of the beautiful working girls, it had quickly brought in many new customers. It was on one such night that Ciri decided to pay the fine establishment a visit.

*****

The first thing that Ciri noticed upon entering the building was its exquisite scent. She inhaled deeply. Wine, fruity perfume, and the heady aroma of sex mingled freely in the air.

Ciri smiled to herself.

_Smells just like Triss’ room back at Kaer Morhen._

She wandered through the open floor of the first story. Attractive women crawled over every corner of the brothel, displaying their goods for customers. Some were sprawled on fine linens, legs parted, while others worked poles. A short, dark-haired girl licked her lips in Ciri’s direction, then stuck her middle finger in her pussy while using the index to beckon her over. Ciri smiled at her, but then shook her head. Sadly, she couldn’t afford a night with the girls here. She moved over to one of the bouncers of the house and flashed her Gwent deck at him.

_*****_

The bouncer led Ciri upstairs after she paid the 100-crown entry fee to Gwent night. It took place in a small room on the second story. Several individual tables were laid out, with some already having pairs deep in a game, while others had individuals waiting for an opponent. Ciri turned to her guide to ask him how to proceed, but he answered her before she could speak.

“Pick a table with one person and play a game against them. Our girls will walk around to make sure everything is alright. If you win the game, you win back your entry fee plus the entry fee of the person that you beat. You also get the option to put that money back in and go onto the higher-level rounds. If you win in the upper tier, you earn a chance to fuck whichever whore you want. If you stop playing, you forfeit to your opponent. Understood?”

Ciri nodded, and he walked back down the stairs.

*****

Ciri scanned the room, calculating which of the men she ought to try to take on. Most of them were cut from the same cloth. Middle-aged, bearded, and adorned in dark leather jerkins.

_This look is all the rage among the noblemen now, isn’t it?_

Ciri kept glancing across the room, then finally noticed what she’d been looking for. One of the noblemen towards the back of the room was shifting around uncomfortably, clearly unable to focus on the task at hand. Whereas most of the men were studying their decks and deciding which combinations they’d play for their upcoming games, the man at the back was taking lusty peeks at the nude working girls. When a blonde, well-endowed elf bent over him to refill his wine glass, his eyes nearly popped out his skull. Ciri smirked: she’d found her target.

*****

“Hello, I’m Cirilla! It’s a pleasure to meet you, how about a game of Gwent?” Ciri treated the man to a small bow and pleasant smile after her introduction. He looked her over with interest, though his eyes still flickered back to the elven girl once or twice.

“Of course, of course. My name is Tywin, let us begin.” He wiped a few beads of perspiration from his forehead and took another sip of wine, then pulled out his selection of cards.

_Nilfgaard._

As they shuffled their decks, Ciri decided to chat with him.

“These girls really are something else, aren’t they?”, she said casually. He froze, looked at her, then back down at his cards. Another bead of sweat dribbled down his forehead.

“Of course,”, she continued, “They make it a point to find the best women in the North. They’re _incredibly_ tight. I hear that they’ll do _anyth- “_

The man choked on his wine, became red in the face, then leaned in towards Ciri.

“Look, do you think I don’t know that? If I weren’t married, I’d be balls deep in one of these wenches right now.”

Ciri leaned closer to him, taking on an adversarial tone.

“Why would you let your wife dictate things to you? You’re the man of the house, are you not? You should plough whoever you want.”

The man looked at her intensely for a moment, then pulled back a bit, biting on his lip.

“My wife is waiting downstairs right now. She made sure I only have enough money to play Gwent, so I can’t pay any of the women. The moment I leave the room she’s going to take me back to our flat.”

Ciri chuckled at him.

“You sound whipped.”

He opened his mouth, seemingly about to argue, but then shut it again. He nodded once, then began to shuffle his deck again.

*****

Tywin put down his first card of the round. It was a spy, of course. Ciri would typically have been annoyed, but her focus was not on the game. Instead, she was scheming.

The table that the pair sat at had a heavy cloth draped over it. The cloth fell over their lower bodies, obscuring their legs completely, which gave her the privacy she needed to hide her actions from the circling waiting girls. She began to undo her pants. They came off easily, and then she stripped off her panties. They were thin, white, and slightly wet from her arousal. Stripping in public tended to have that effect on her.

Tywin looked to her, waiting for her to take her turn. She laid down a trebuchet. What Tywin did not expect, however, was for her to use her other hand to lay something on him underneath the table.  

“What in the bla-“

He froze mid-sentence in shock. Ciri had pushed her slick panties into his hand. When he looked back over at her, she was suckling her dainty fingers while looking right back towards him.

“Tywin, could you do me a favor? I dropped something under the table, could you pick it up for me?”

The nobleman glanced around. No one in the room was paying particularly close attention to them. He leaned towards Ciri.

“What are you pulling here?”

“I’m horny, you’re horny, why don’t we create a mutually beneficial arrangement? You don’t need money and you don’t need to leave this room, just go under the table. No one will know.” She whispered back, her breath smelling of sweetness and wine.

He pulled back, glanced around once more, and thought of his wife. He went under the table.

                                                                         *****              

The nobleman pushed her legs apart roughly and took in the glorious sight.

“Oh, you are truly lovely” he murmured, running his hands over her pale inner thighs as he gazed at her small pink cherry. A small amount of pubic hair had grown over it in the past few days and it was leaking with wetness. 

He buried his entire face in it, drinking it in with the ferocity and neediness of a man whom had been dying of thirst. Ciri’s pussy juices were like the water which could quench the dehydration of his dead marriage. She could feel his tongue haphazardly raking over every sensitive fold of her fuck hole.

Ciri’s eyes rolled back a bit as he sloppily ate her out. She tried her best to maintain a poker face, then took the bottle of wine which was sitting on the table. As the waves of pleasure poured over her, she poured the wine down her pelvis. First it flowed over her clit, then it passed through her many folds and mingled with her cum, then it went into his mouth. Tywin, in his sexual frenzy, drank it all with gusto.

Ciri kept pouring, he kept whipping his tongue back and forth, and the waves of pleasure kept mounting.

*****

The elven serving girl with exceptionally large breasts came back around to their table. She looked at Tywin’s empty seat, at the nearly empty board, then back at Ciri.

“Where has your partner gone?” she inquired. She moved to Ciri’s side as she waited for an answer.

Ciri did her best to keep a straight face even as the nobleman tonguefucked her.

“I believe he went to the bathroom.”

“Ah, ok.” The elven whore seemed satisfied with the answer. She stooped down over Ciri.

“By the way, I hope you win the free sex.” She giggled. “You seem like a fun girl in bed. My friend mentioned that she wanted you as soon as you walked in.” With that, she rubbed her own snatch and pushed the damp fingers into Ciri’s mouth.

“There’s your preview.”

Ciri came into Tywin’s mouth as explosively as a cannon.

*****

By the time Tywin slumped back into his chair, Ciri had poured two bottles of wine down his throat. His face was covered in Ciri’s juices and he was completely beaten. He looked at Ciri groggily, then smiled at her.

“Thank you”

He slumped back in the chair and fell into unconsciousness.

*****

The staff came around a few minutes later and collected the nobleman who had crashed into the deepest of drunken slumber. The elf girl handed Ciri two pouches as the man was hauled downstairs towards his wife.

“The first pouch contains your entry fee, the second is your prize.” She said with a smile. “As per the rules, you win due to your opponent forfeiting.”

Ciri grinned; something told her that the man wouldn’t consider the night a failure despite his lost crowns. She turned to the gorgeous blonde elf.

“Look, I’d love to spend the night with you, but I can’t go onto the higher rounds in this tournament. I really need to keep the money that I have right now.”

The elf frowned for a moment, but then smiled.

“Follow me.”

The two girls went back downstairs and found the Madame. The elf explained how Ciri had come in to play Gwent but hadn’t been able to do so because her opponent was a disgusting drunk. The Madame, Marquise Serenity, looked at Ciri sympathetically.

“I’m sorry to hear that. We always try to provide the highest quality experiences here at the Passiflora, and it sounds like that standard was not met. Could we make that up to you in any way?”

Ciri wrapped her arm around the waist of the voluptuous elven prostitute.

“Well yes, there is one thing that I’d like….”

*****

Ciri left the Passiflora many hours later. Some called it the land of dreams, others claimed it was the greatest house of pleasure in the world. After what the elves had done with her pussy, Ciri could hardly disagree. However, most importantly, she now had the money that she needed to pay off Whoreson Junior. From here, she hoped to get back on track with finding Avallach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone that has read to this point! I had a question that I wanted to ask you all. After this chapter, I will most likely move to the story events of Skellige. I wanted to stick more closely to what actually occurred in TW3 during that segment, rather than taking as many creative liberties as I did with the Novigrad portion. My question to you all is simple: which of Ciri's Skellige moments would you like to see me add to the work? I will most likely create three chapters for this portion.


	7. Spa Day in Skellige

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciri arrives at Lofoten after fleeing the Wild Hunt. She proceeds to have an interesting encounter at the local sauna.

Spa Day in Skellige

 

Hindersfjall was quite a sleepy island. Its small size meant that it typically had much less going on than other places in the Isles. Nowhere was this more evident than in the village of Lofoten. The tiny settlement was most famous for its spa, which was, it goes without saying, a change of pace for the typically warlike people of Skellige. Life in the idyllic village, however, would soon be forever changed. On one fateful morning, the fishermen of the town found a most unexpected catch. From the icy waters they pulled Ciri, and from that point forward, history was set in motion.

*****

Ciri came to suddenly, her body spasming in pain. She slowly opened her eyes, which felt heavy as lead. Around her, an unfamiliar room swam into view. Normally, all these factors would be cause for panic. However, she was in a decent bed and seemed to be in no immediate danger. She laid her head back onto the pillow and began to go over the events of the past few days.

_How could I have been stupid enough to trust in Whoreson Junior? Should’ve known that piece of shit would backstab me. And now I’ve gone and used my teleportation, perfect. If the Wild Hunt tracks me here, I’m toast. And, where in the name of the gods is Avallach?_

Her thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of a young man. Ciri looked towards him, ready to begin to demand information, but the man turned out to be very forthcoming. His name was Skjall, and he was clearly taken with her. She was ready to use that to her advantage if need be, but he told her all she needed to know. Avallach was not currently here, they were in Skellige, and she was recovering from having nearly drowned. Of lesser importance, but of great interest nonetheless, was the news that Skjall had watched over her half naked body for over a day. Ciri had to admit, he was somewhat attractive, and the thought of him watching over her like that was interesting, to say the least. However, as she began to gauge what she could potentially get out of the relationship, another person entered the room.

“Is my brother boring you? Pay him no attention, he’d ramble on all day to try to keep your attention! He’s quite taken with you, ya know.”

The girl quickly introduced herself as Astrid, then shooed her visibly disappointed brother out the room. She looked Ciri over, fretting over every detail of her sore, chilled body.

“You know what you need?” she began. “A day at the sauna. It’ll wring the cold right out of ya. Should feel awful nice after nearly drowning.”

Ciri wasn’t sure how to react. On one hand, the sauna sounded wonderful, but on the other hand, she had no idea whether the Wild Hunt was tracking her to the village.

_Thing is, I’ve already been here for a whole day. If the Wild Hunt were on my trail, they should’ve gotten here by now. How much damage could some time at the sauna do?_

“You know what, I think I’ll take you up on that offer.” She told the bubbly Skellige lass. “How about you take me there?”

*****

Ciri gazed at the mirror, feeling a bit self-conscious. Astrid had led her to a small changing room adjacent to the sauna and then left her to her own devices. Ciri was wearing some frilly panties, and the wrapping of bandages around her chest made her feel, well, _flat._ Perhaps it was a silly concern, but she still didn’t exactly like how unflattering her attire was. Still, she had promised Astrid that she would go through with the sauna day, and so she would.

Ciri crossed through the door and entered the sauna room. Inside it was Astrid, as well as two older women. The oldest of the lot gave Ciri a judgmental glance, looking pointedly at her breast coverings. All the other women in the room were bare-chested, even the elderly lady.

_I suppose I’m violating a custom._

The elderly lady clucked her tongue twice, got up, and left the room. The other older lady offered an apology to Ciri and rushed out the room as well.

“Well, how’s that for hospitality!” Ciri joked weakly. “I guess they really wanted me to feel at home, giving me exclusive access to the room and all.”

“Ah, don’t let that old fart bother you.” Astrid replied. “A lot of the older folk here only know one way of living, and anything different makes them act like buffoons. Seeing an outsider like you flaunt custom is too much for some of these folks to handle, but it doesn’t offend me.”

The two young women sat down next to one another and silently soaked in the atmosphere. Ciri put the incident out of her mind and focused on the wet heat of the room, which did indeed feel wonderful. Her chilled body and sore muscles began to loosen. Astrid, noticing that Ciri had finally begun to relax, turned to her with a smile.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself now. Those muscles still look very tense, though. Could I interest you in a massage?”

Ciri nodded blissfully as the steam and heat took over.

*****

Ciri laid on her back against the bench. Astrid clambered over her, oil in hand. The Skellige lass was quite the sight. Her breasts had become slick with moisture from the air, and her confidence in mounting herself over Ciri was quite arousing. Astrid gave Ciri’s body a quick appraisal, then nodded at her legs.

“Your thigh muscles really need some attention.” She said, turning herself to face Ciri’s lower half. “I’m known for being very good down there, so let’s see if I can work some magic here.”

She turned herself around to face Ciri’s thighs, then bent down. This pushed her ample arse closer to Ciri’s face and brought her nipples down within distance of her skin. Ciri’s breathing hitched.

_Gods, I didn’t bargain for this. I’m not complaining, though._

Astrid poured the hot oil over Ciri’s thighs with slow movements. After properly coating them, she eased her fingers between the gaps and began working them deftly into the muscles. She kneaded the flesh with dexterity and tenderness.

“Oh my Astrid, ohhh gods, that’s _very_ good.” Ciri breathed out. Her pussy was beginning to betray her. The arousal that she had been fighting to hide was now leaking into, and through, her panties.

Astrid moved lower, working her fingers around the calves. She would press hard in some spots before relenting and gently rolling her fists. Each movement felt like a pleasurable, erotic torture session. 

_I just need to fuck her, at this point. I can’t stand this much longer._

Finally, Astrid moved all the way down. She glanced back at Ciri for a moment, with a bemused, knowing expression on her face.

“I have a trick that I use with the feet. I think you’ll like it. Close your eyes and wait for the surprise.”

Ciri closed her eyes and waited. She felt Astrid’s deft, warm fingers begin to run through each toe, leaving a thin coating of hot oil between them. The hands then moved down, skillfully rubbing the heels of her feet. As the fingers began moving back up, Ciri felt Astrid’s hot breath approach her feet. The wet, slightly rough sensation of tongue raked between her toes. Then, Astrid took every toe into her sweet, hot mouth cavity.

Ciri’s eyes burst open. She began to cum buckets, driven over the edge by the sudden suckling of her toes. The liquid burst through her thin undergarments and splattered over Astrid’s stomach. Astrid put more and more of Ciri’s foot into her mouth, even as her midsection was drenched with fluid. The ashen haired wench looked up at Astrid’s clothed backside.

_She won’t be the only one using her mouth._

Ciri tore the panties down and pushed her tongue deep into Astrid’s ass.

*****

The two women laid next to one another, soaked from the exertion of their wanton sexual tryst. Astrid turned her head to Ciri lazily, looking over her conquest.

“You know, I knew you liked women from the second you walked into the sauna.” She said. “You looked at all of our chests the way a man would, with hunger. That’s when I knew that I had the opportunity of a lifetime. Most Skellige girls are too conservative and wouldn’t eat muff even if they wanted to. You were my golden ticket, in a way.”

“So, all of that massage stuff was meant to bait a reaction from me?” Ciri responded.

“Of course, silly! I don’t typically lick my customers feet, after all. I knew that once I did that, you’d be putty in my hands.” Astrid sassily replied.

Ciri looked towards the ceiling and gave it a wry smile. For once, she’d been the sexual target.

_How the tables have turned._

*****

Ciri walked to the stables some time later, ready to depart from Lofoten. Skjall had promised to take her to Avallach, who was apparently in a boat down the coast. As they readied their steeds, however, Ciri felt a chill enter the air. Skjall stuck his hand out.

“Snow. Why would it snow at this time of the year?”

Ciri’s stomach dropped. The Hunt had arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided that I will cut short the Skellige portion to move onto the Isle of Mists. I think that, plus everything which comes after it, should offer better content than staying in Skellige, given that Ciri didn't really do much while she was there in the game. If there are any story encounters from later in Ciri's Witcher 3 arc that you would like to see me touch on, let me know!


	8. The Isle of Mists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A group of dwarves stranded on the Isle of Mists stumble upon Ciri's sleeping body. They decide to have some fun during the last moments of their lives. 
> 
> Warning: This chapter is non-consensual.

The Isle of Mists

_“Ah fuck, I told you this was a good idea! This wench is wet as water!”_

_With that, the Dwarf pressed the head of his thick, stout member to Ciri’s slick opening. The other Dwarves looked on, cocks in hand. Things were about to get heated._

*****

The Isle of Mists was a place of legend. Some Skelligers swore by its existence, while others dismissed it as simply being a tall tale which has been passed on over the ages. The one thing that was certain was that if the island were real, it was certainly a place you’d never want to visit. It was said to be the final resting place for thousands of sailors whom had crashed upon its cursed shores. The black magic which shrouded it in mist also created all manner of foul creatures. Simply put, it was sometimes better to die in the shipwreck than to land upon the island and meet with its inhabitants. However, it also meant that there was no better place to hide something if you didn’t want it to be found.

This is what Avallach had figured, at least. He had put a sleeping charm on Ciri and then left her in a small cottage in the island’s center, then cast a ward of protection around it. The monsters, at the very least, would be kept away. What he hadn’t accounted for was Dwarves.

Only a few days after Ciri had been put into her slumber, there was a new arrival on the island’s shores. It was a crew of Dwarves hailing from Novigrad, searching for hidden treasure in the stormy waters of Skellige. They’d followed somewhat dubious advice, and their eventual shipwreck had led them to the Isle of Mists. The surviving crew broke apart as they wandered through the thick haze, but eventually four of the Dwarves managed their way towards the safety of the hut. It was from this point that they discovered Ciri’s inert body, and several events were set in motion.

*****

The four Dwarves huddled in a circle in the middle of the room, deep in argument.

“So you’re sayin you want to rape her, eh? I never figured you to be the type, mate.” Said the shortest of the Dwarfs. He wore a green jerkin and had the grey beard of a very aged fellow.

The tallest Dwarf stood to his full height and responded angrily.

“Look, I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into you, but this aint the time for moralizing. We’re up shit creek. We ain’t never getting off this island again unless you count our corpses floating off into the ocean! We got no food, no boat, no NOTHING. Why the fuck would we spend our last days rotting here, having no fun, when we at least have some hooch and a pretty wench over in that corner? Why not take her for a ride, eh? She don’t even respond when we try to wake her up, it wont hurt her a bit!”

The elderly dwarf looked around in agony as the other two dwarfs murmured their agreement. He had to admit that a valid point had been made. What would morality get them in such a situation? Bugger all, that’s what. Still, it went against everything that he had ever followed in his life.

The head Dwarf continued to speak, but this time with a little less anger.

“Look, if she wakes up and asks us to stop, I promise that I will. We all will. That will be the end of it.”

The old dwarf looked over at Ciri, then back at his fellow countrymen. He had to admit, she was a tempting proposition. The brown leather pants that she wore hugged every inch of her curves and outlined the perky ass that hid beneath.

_Gods, this is wrong. But, I’m going to be dead in a few days anyway….._

He nodded his assent to the others, and they all moved towards her.

*****

 

“Ah fuck, I told you this was a good idea! This wench is wet as water!”

Those were the first words that the tall dwarf spoke upon triumphantly stripping away Ciri’s panties. He pushed his thick dwarf cock right up to her slit, which was surprisingly wet given that it hadn’t gotten any stimulus. He rubbed his tip all over the tender pink cherry, basking in the sensation of it.  He turned his head to the other Dwarves as he toyed with her snatch.

“Aye, she wants it. No wench gets this wet without wanting it, am I right boys?!”

The other two Dwarves roared in affirmation, while the elderly one simply nodded. It was true; he’d never seen a pussy look so ready to be fucked. It was unlike any other. Small and pink, made of flesh and yet glistening like a jewel. He couldn’t deny his own arousal.

The four Dwarves all took their spots. The leader was ready to plunge into her pussy, the elder went for her mouth, and the other two rubbed their cocks onto her perky tits. They were all set to begin the gangbang. However, just as the leader pressed his rod deeper into her welcoming pussy, a sound rang through the room.

**_KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK_ **

All four of them froze in place. From the door, a voice called out.

“Is there anyone in there? Hello! This is Geralt, open the door!”

The four of them stood quietly, as petrified as they were aroused. It was a strange feeling, to be fearing for one’s life even while balls deep in a beauty. The leader was the one that decided to take on the situation.

“Aye, mate, there are folk in here. Some Dwarves. What do ye want.” He slowly slid his member out from Ciri, watching as the silky folds gripped him, almost begging him not to leave. Sadly, he had to, so he walked to the door.

From this point, he began negotiations with Geralt. The gruff, dangerous sounding man informed them that he was a Witcher, and that he was looking for the girl they were trying to fuck in this very moment. The two discussed their situations, then came to an agreement. He would open the door, but only if Geralt could find the other Dwarves first. Luckily for them, Geralt agreed, and they heard his heavy footsteps moving away from the door.

He turned to his shipmates, relief plastered on his face.

“I just saved our asses and bought us some time too! Here’s the plan.”

*****

“Ah fuck yeah! Man, she’s good. That bitch milked me dry in 20 seconds, feels like I have a clamp on my cock.”

The leader of the dwarves continued to moan out expletives as he emptied himself into Ciri’s vagina. The new plan was quite uncomplicated. They would all take turns draining their ballsacks into Ciri’s pussy instead of shooting loads over her body. If all their semen was inside her, then it would be easy to simply redress her and lay her back on the bed as if nothing had ever happened. That way they could still have their fun, but without angering the man who came looking for the girl.

The elderly dwarf stood up and lined his member up next. The other part of the instructions had been to blow their load as quickly as possible. After all, Dwarves could ejaculate almost an unlimited number of times in a night, so they wanted to maximize how much they’d be putting into her.

He slipped his member in and began to thrust away. The clench of her walls enveloped him, causing him to groan in utter bliss. It had been a while since he’d felt a woman like this. Not since the days of his youth had a ripe young pussy been at his mercy. His balls scrunched, and he blew his load.

“31 seconds.” He muttered, slightly out of breath. He moved away and took his place at the back of the line. The next dwarf cracked his knuckles and stepped up to the plate.

Over the course of the next twenty minutes, the Dwarfs became more and more efficient. With every lusty thrust, they perfected the art of filling Ciri with cum. By the end of the session, Ciri’s lower abdomen bulged out slightly; it contained three dozen loads of dwarf semen.

“Aye boys, I think she’s gonna be having a dwarf child if she’s alive in nine months. I reckon it’ll be mine, I think I dumped the most in her!” He chuckled, then grabbed her panties.

“Let’s fix this up now.”

*****

Geralt stood outside the door with Gaspard, the narcoleptic dwarf. He couldn’t quite put a finger on why, but he couldn’t trust these Dwarves. Nonetheless, his task was complete, and he was certain this is where he would find Ciri.

The door opened, the Dwarves collected their friends, and Geralt walked into the hut, ready to finally save his daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone that supports this fic by reading all the chapters. We've just broken past 5000 hits, which is an exciting milestone! I will attempt to regularize my uploading schedule more in the coming weeks so that I can complete the rest of Ciri's journey in a timely manner.


	9. Before the Battle of Kaer Morhen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciri storms off after being told that she can't participate in the battle. Triss is given the task of bringing her back into the safety of the castle walls. 
> 
> Non-Con F/F

Before the Battle of Kaer Morhen

 

Kaer Morhen was perhaps the most beautiful place in the North. Its alpine peaks, dew covered pines, and cool blue river streams painted an idyllic picture. However, on this evening the atmosphere was different. The local wildlife was nowhere to be seen, the breeze was still, and the air was cooling. Something was coming.

Ciri sat atop the fortress, taking in the peculiar scenes below. She’d spent her early years in the Witcher castle, and the return to it should’ve been a happy event, but it was not. Soon after her arrival the Witchers had begun to draw up defensive plans. According to Vesemir, it was only a matter of time before the Wild Hunt detected her and struck. Ciri had been eager to help defend her family and friends, but instead they’d told her that she would be stuck inside the castle while they fought on her behalf. As one would expect, Ciri didn’t take that very well, and had stormed off in anger.

Ciri gazed at the still tops of the valley’s pine trees. She’d come to one of her favorite locations in the fortress to try to calm down. It was a small watchtower which looked out over the side of the castle’s front walls. In her youngest years she had come here to whistle to the birds and draw images of the valley below.

She stroked the crumbling stones as she sat in silence. The years had not been kind to the tower. Several holes had materialized in the wall, and the stone itself was brittle enough to be broken by hand. Seeing it all only made Ciri angrier.

_This castle isn’t even fit for inhabitation, and yet they’re going to fight to the death in it. All for the sake of defending me…._

She picked up a pebble which had come loose from the walls. For many years she would’ve walked by it, unaware of its existence, but now it had finally broken off. She rubbed it once, then dropped it into the valley below.

*****

In the main courtyard, the final preparations had begun. The Skelligers were sharpening axes, Roche and Ves practiced their form together, and Kiera Metz murmured incantations as she walked through the various castle chokepoints. Triss Merigold was doing her part as well. She’d set up a magical forcefield, reinforced weak points in the crumbling fortifications, and, ah, took it upon herself to “boost the morale” of Eskel, Lambert, and a few of the others.  With those tasks complete, she had one final job: ensuring that Ciri was out of harm’s way when the fighting began. She set her sights on the dilapidated Northern Watchtower; if she knew Ciri at all, that would be the best place to find her.

*****

Ciri kept her eyes trained forward even as she heard the watchtower ladder creak.

_Someone is coming up. They’re a fool if they think they’ll get me to leave and sit out the fight._

The ladder fell silent as the figure pulled themselves onto the main floor. They walked across the deck gently and took a seat next to Ciri. For a moment there was silence, but the intruder broke it.

“Ciri, I know how hard it is to be told that you can’t fight. I know that it feels like we’re being patronizing and treating you like a kid. But you’ve got to understand how much is riding on this. We can’t afford to let you get in harm’s way.”

Ciri did not respond. Of course, they had sent Triss to find her. The two women knew each other very well, and they probably figured that if anyone could convince Ciri to cooperate, it would be her.

Ciri looked back at Triss, considering her options. She had no intent to be locked away in the castle, but if she simply refused then there was a good chance that Triss would cast a spell and take her by force. No, she would need to be smart about it.

She glanced at the skies, which were greying by the minute. The air itself had dropped sharply in temperature. The Hunt was on the way. If she delayed long enough, she’d still be out here when the fighting began. Unfortunately for her, she only had one option which would fluster Triss long enough for the plan to be successful.

_What is it that Triss always told me? Use your body to get out of tight situations. Who knows, it just may work…_

She decided then that she would force herself onto Triss. Triss was a rather slutty woman, and if she could force her into a sexual encounter then there was a good chance she'd get into it. There was no time for seduction or games, she would need to force the matter quickly. It was probably a risky ploy to seduce the woman who taught her seduction anyway, as she would see right through it. No, she’d have to catch Triss off guard and use her physical advantage.  

Ciri turned to Triss, leaned in, and kissed her right on the lips.

*****

Ciri aggressively pushed Triss onto the floor and climbed on top of her. She wouldn’t give Triss a chance to say no to this. Their mouths broke apart, and Ciri shot her a bemused smile.

“Does your mouth always taste of semen?” She asked.

_Keep her on the defensive, keep asking questions. Make her as flustered as possible._

Triss blushed.

“Eskel and Lambert looked a bit worried before the fight, so I helped them relax. They like my blowjobs quite a bit, so I figured I’d do my part, that’s all. And, Ciri, I’d love to have some fun with you, but this is the worst tim-”

Ciri pinned both of Triss’ arms to the floor and bit her in her neck, cutting the sentence off. She then nibbled at her ear, eliciting a moan from Triss.  

“Isn’t Lambert in a relationship with Kiera? Why are you sucking the cocks of men that are spoken for? Yen didn’t like it the last time you did that…. Of course, you never seemed to care what the women thought.” Ciri accused.

Triss’ cheeks turned to the color of her hair.

“Ciri, please. You know why I do that, and you do it yourself! I just like having a good time, and sometimes it’s also useful. Besides, Kiera Metz does it even more than me, she let Geralt plough her senseless while he was with Yen! How can you defend that whor-.”

Triss was cut short as Ciri pushed her tongue back into her mouth. This time she aggressively tongued the back of her throat, causing Triss to gag. The taste of semen was overpowering; Triss had clearly swallowed several loads only moments before. Finally, she broke away, and began to paw at the sorceress’ silky green dress. It was a very exposing piece of clothing, perfect for the activities that Triss usually got up to. She pushed her hands up the bottom, expecting to pull away at undergarments, only to contact Triss’ bare pussy.

“Triss, you naughty girl! No panties, no bra. Do you just walk around ready to drop to your knees for any man that asks?” Ciri taunted. She tore the flimsy garment off and shoved her entire fist into the slit. The snatch was wet with both arousal and male semen. Clearly Triss had used more than just her mouth to “boost morale.”

“Truth be told- _ahhhhhh_ , I don’t need to- _ohhh fuck_ , wear those when I’m in Kaer Morhen. The Witchers always want easy access to my body so there’s no point when it’s- _ohhhh lord,_ going to come off anyway.” Triss managed to say through the waves of pleasure. Ciri knew this, of course, but it amused her to no end to hear Triss explain it herself.

“Oh sure, blame the witchers. We both know you’ve been giving some very special treats to the new castle guests too.” Ciri said. This she wasn’t too sure of, since she’d only just arrived at Kaer Morhen. Based on the look Triss gave her though, it was probably true.

The weather in the valley continued to worsen as Ciri pinned Triss by the neck and fisted deep into her. Small flecks of snow began to drift through the holes in the tower roof. Ciri glanced up.

_They’ll be here soon…. I can’t let Triss notice, though._

She quickly stripped away her pants and rotated her body. Her pussy, which hadn’t been shaved in ages, was positioned above Triss’ face. She pressed down on her mouth and began to grind her hairy muff fiercely.

“Triss, work some of that magic for old time’s sake, why don’t you?” Ciri said sweetly. With her pink slit on the mouth and the rest of her ass pressed into the eyes, she hoped that Triss wouldn’t be able to tell how close they were to the assault.

Triss was slurping away underneath her, letting herself fall into the sexual heat of the moment. She was very familiar with the heat and taste of Ciri’s snatch, though this time it was different. Globs of dwarf semen were sliding out of it and into Triss’ throat. She didn’t mind it, but she was utterly baffled as to how it got there in the first place.

She began eating at Ciri’s pussy with great fervor, using her bottom lip to flick the clit while probing deep with the tongue itself. Ciri sped up the pace of her grinding as the pleasure mounted; soon she was rocking so hard that Triss’ breasts were swinging back and forth like pendulums. It had been a while since Ciri has gotten her vagina eaten out with such skill, and before she knew it, she had a mind-bending orgasm. She closed her eyes in bliss and fell to the side as her nether region sent jolts of ecstasy through her. When she opened her eyes, however, she realized her mistake. Triss had taken that moment to stand up and begin casting a spell. Ciri tried to lunge back towards her, but it was too late. The sleeping incantation took effect, and Ciri’s eyelids closed.  

*****

Ciri came to suddenly. Around her were the dark castle walls of Kaer Morhen. Triss stood in front of the door, key in hand. She’d been brought to Triss’ room and laid in bed.  

“Ciri I enjoyed myself back there very much, but it doesn’t mean I’m letting you fight. I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to stay here.”

She walked out the door, and with a click, locked it shut.

Ciri sat in silence as the Hunt began to enter Kaer Morhen.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this chapter featuring Triss, be sure to check out my other work! I would also like some feedback about which story events you'd like to see me cover. If there are any moments after the Battle of Kaer Morhen that involve Ciri which you want turned into a smutty short story, please let me know. However, please know that I will probably only fulfill requests if they are at least related to events that happened in game.


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